when he’d been in his fine, borrowed clothing. Nobles could stand their ground without fear. The rest, though…
“Hold on up,” said the heavier of the two guards as they tried to pass through. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Sick with fever,” Haern said, refusing to meet the guard’s eye for long. He didn’t want to seem memorable in any way.
“Fever?” said the other guard, wandering over. “We don’t need any sort of plague getting near the docks. How bad?”
“She’ll die soon,” Alyssa said, stepping up.
“You his husband, miss?”
“Yes,” Alyssa said without missing a beat. “Please, she’s our friend.”
She reached into her pocket and withdrew a handful of coins. Haern inwardly winced, and wasn’t surprised when the guards narrowed their eyes. Every coin was gold, and freshly minted. No one garbed as they were could possess such wealth.
“Please,” she said, offering three coins to each. “We are in a great hurry.”
The second took the gold, but the heavier one scratched at his chin. Haern felt his eyes analyzing him, and he tensed, waiting for that moment of recognition. The guard leaned toward the other and whispered something.
“Don’t be daft,” said the other. “That ain’t him.”
“But how could you know?”
“Course I know.” The second guard stared Haern straight in the eye. “He saved my life. How would I forget that face?”
The heavier guard shrugged and pocketed his share of the coin.
“Much appreciate the kindness,” he said. “Hard work keeping these streets safe.”
“I can imagine,” Haern said.
The three continued on, then hooked a right.
“Next time, a handful of coppers will suffice,” Haern said when they were out of earshot.
Alyssa blushed.
“The least I have is a few silvers…”
Haern rolled his eyes.
“Forget it. You could never pass as a commoner, anyway. You don’t have the slouch.”
Alyssa started to protest, but saw Zusa smiling amid her pain. She blushed and kept her mouth shut. They traveled down the street until Haern at last stopped them before their destination.
“A temple?” Alyssa asked.
“They may give us sanctuary,” Haern said. “And at the least, they might be able to help Zusa. She’s what is most important right now.”
“Of course,” Alyssa said, sounding ashamed. “I should have thought of this sooner.”
They approached the entrance, a single door lacking any decorations. The outside was plain, half the size of Ashhur’s temple in Veldaren. The walls were wood instead of stone. Haern wondered if Karak’s temple held far greater sway and attendance, or if the people of Angelport simply had no time for gods. Neither thought was comforting. A bronze knocker was nailed to the center of the door, and Alyssa rapped it twice. Within moments the door cracked open, and a young man of twelve or thirteen greeted them.
“May I help you?” he asked with practiced politeness.
“We seek succor,” Haern said, tilting his head toward Zusa. “And our friend is in need of healing.”
“One moment.”
The door shut, and they heard a lock click from the other side. Haern began a new litany in his head, denouncing the pain he felt. Something warm trickled down his arm, and he knew the wound was bleeding through the bandage. Not much longer, he thought. He just had to hang on a little while longer. A minute later, the door swung wide, and the young man beckoned them in.
“I’m sorry for the wait. Please, follow me.”
They entered immediately into the altar room, where benches of mismatched wood were lined before a single stepped dais. Their host pointed to one of the benches.
“Lay her down there.”
“Sure thing, uh….”
“Oh,” the young man seemed to snap out of his routine for a brief moment. “Logan. Sorry.”
Haern noticed he’d kept something hidden from them in his arms, first at his chest when he led them in, and now at his back. Setting Zusa down, he took a quick glance when their host wasn’t looking. It looked like a weapon of some sort, a metal club, perhaps.
“Are you the priest here?” Alyssa asked, looking about the simple room.
“Me?” Logan shook his head and grinned. “No, ma’am. Nole’s in charge. I just help. He’s out with a family, but he’ll be back soon. Please stay in here, all right?”
“Sure thing,” Haern said, squeezing Zusa’s hand. “Might you bring us some blankets before you go?”
Logan flushed.
“Of course.”
He retreated into a single door behind the altar, returning moments later with several blankets in his arms.
“I didn’t know how many you’d need,” he said as Alyssa took them.
“Thank you,” she said, laying two of them across Zusa, who had begun shivering. Logan peered over her shoulder, then stepped back when he realized Haern was watching.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked.
“She’s sick,” Haern said. “Is it not obvious?”
Logan nodded twice in rapid succession, then hurried into the back room after repeating that they stay there.
“Nervous little kid,” Haern muttered.
“Be kind,” Alyssa said, sitting on the bench by Zusa. Gently she stroked her friend’s forehead.
The minutes passed in silence. Haern took a seat on a bench opposite the two women, and he held his stolen sword in both hands, gently poking the tip into the floor as a way to relieve his boredom. He hated this feeling of helplessness, hated the pain that refused to leave his shoulder, hated the blood that dripped down to his wrist before dropping to the floor. Most of all, he hated the raging desire for vengeance in his heart. It felt unwelcome in such a temple, no matter how small and plain it might be.
But he wouldn’t deny it. Madelyn. Ingram. The elves. More than ever, he felt he understood the Wraith’s desire to bring it all tumbling down. What is it he’d said? He’d walked into a house of cards. Who was in the right? Could he even trust Alyssa?
The door opened behind them with a loud creak, and he turned toward it. In stepped a middle-aged man, his hair long but his face shaven. He wore the white robes of his order, which stood in stark contrast to his dark skin. Seeing them there, he smiled.
“I see we have guests,” he said. “Welcome. I am Nole, priest and leader of this holy temple.”
Haern stood so he could bow, while Alyssa remained seated next to Zusa, still holding the faceless woman’s hand. From the back the door opened, and Logan hurried out.
“Have you made our guests feel comfortable?” Nole asked the young man.
“We’ve been treated well,” Haern said, answering for him. “Though I feared Logan might strike us with a club at any moment.”
Logan blushed and kicked his feet.
“It’s just, you know, robbers…”
“We’ve had many come claiming they seek forgiveness only to instead steal every last copper,” Nole said. “I hate leaving him here alone, but someone must watch the temple when I am gone. And who might you three be?”
“My name is Haern. With me is Alyssa, and the sick lady, Zusa.”
Nole frowned as he came closer to where Zusa lay. Alyssa looked up at him expectantly.
“Can you help her?” she asked. “I can pay well, I promise.”
